Sunshine and storm in the East, or Cruises to Cyprus and Constantinople

Front matter

iflr

U| o

SUNSHINE AND STORM IN THE EAST

Preface

My tables , my tables , — meet it is, I set it down.

N our return from a cruise to the Arctic Circle in 1874, after remaining but a few days in England, we started on a voyage to the East. It had always been a dream of my youth to visit Constantinople, the city of gilded palaces and mosques, of harems and romance — to skim the placid waters of the Bosphorus and the Golden Horn ; and the present time seemed to furnish an excellent opportunity to do all this, and to revisit the Ionian Islands. I continued my old practice of writing long journal letters home to my father, to be afterwards circulated among other relatives and more intimate friends. The

Vlll

PREFACE.

‘Voyage in the Sunbeam’ has been so kindly received that I am encouraged to present these letters also to the public.

In 1878 we found ourselves once more in the Mediterranean. This cruise included a visit to Cyprus and a second visit to Constantinople. Melancholy indeed seemed the change in the Turkish capital during the four years since our last visit — a change from all that was bright and glittering to all that was dull and miserable and wretched. It may perhaps be interesting to the reader to compare impressions formed under circumstances so widely different, though the narrative must necessarily appear disjointed and disconnected on account of the intervening years. The title of the book is meant to indicate the change which had passed over Constantinople in the period between our two visits.

A journal kept while cruising in the Mediterranean, though less novel than the story of a family yachting voyage round the world, may yet present some points of interest to the many friendly readers of ‘ A Voyage in the Sunbeam.’

The illustrations are chiefly from drawings by the Hon. A. Y. Bingham ; a few are from other

PREFACE.

IX artists and from photographs taken by myself. They have been all engraved on wood by Mr. Pearson.

ANNIE BRASSEY.

Contents

PART L

CONSTANTINOPLE, IONIAN ISLANDS. (1874.)

CHAPTER PAGE

Appendix

PAGE *

Log of Yacht’s Homeward Journey from Nice . .411

List of our Party, Crew, and Servants . . .415

Summary of the Voyage . . , , . . . 417

List of our Party, Crew, and Servants . . . 420

Programme of the Oran Races . . , . . 422

Temperature of Cyprus , , , , . = .426

Summary of the Voyage ....... 434

Postscript . . . 437

INDEX 439

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

[ Engraved by G. Pearson .]

MAPS.

Map showing Tracks of the ‘Sunbeam’ in 1874-5

and 1878 . , At commencement, before Frontispiece

Map of the Island of Cyprus, showing the Track

of the ‘Sunbeam’ . At end of Book, after Index

FULL- PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS.

Headquarters, Nikosia . . . Bingham . Frontispiece

Dining Saloon . Photograph To face p. 76

The ‘Sunbeam’ in a Gale off Milo Bingham .

Vigo Bay ..... Bingham .

Kyrenia . . , . . . Bingham .

Convent of La Pais . . . Bingham .

Meeting Sir Garnet Wolseley . Bingham .

Naumachia at Cyzicus , . . Bingham .

Adrianople — Bridge over the ) ,

[Bingham .

Tunja J *

33°

XVI

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

WOODCUTS IN TEXT

Disembarkation of the Sultan

| Photograph by Mrs.

PAGE

at Mosque at Fundukli

Brassey .

. vi

A Peep through a Porthole.

Mott .

. vii

A Rough Night for Boating .

Bingham .

i

Cape St. Vincent . . .

Tangier .

Bargaining in the Bazaar . .

Hodgson

ii

Moorish Musician

Woman of Tetuan . . . .

Photograph .

Gibraltar .....

Bingham .

. 25

Deck View . . . .

Photograph .

• 33

Greek Costume . • .

• 38

( Photograph by Mrs.

. 40

Woman of Athens

. 42

The Promenade at Euripo . . i

i

[ Photograph by Mrs. i Brassey

Castle of Euripo . . . J

Photograph by Mrs.

Brassey .

• 47

General View of Constantinople

Preziosi

Tower of Hero and Leander, . in the Bosphorus . * j

• 55

Fountain St. Sophia . . .

Photograph .

• 59

Turkish Waist Clasp .

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

xvii

PAGE

Yacht’s Deckhouse

- .

Photograph .

Turkish Lady

• 74

Dancing Dervishes

Photograph .

» 77

Turkish Cemetery

j Photograph by Mrs. \ Brassey .

. 82

Soldiers’ Cemetery at Skutari.

Photograph .

The Sultan’s Caique .

Mott .

• 85

Broussa from Hotel d’Olympe.1 .

Preziosi

. 90

The Sultan’s Youngest Son

. hi

Original Sketch by the

Sultan

Abdul Aziz .

• 113

Smyrna Camel

• 117

Aqueduct near Ephesus

1 Photograph by Mrs. { Brassey

• 11 9

A Camp on the Road

/ Photograph by Mrs. 1 Brassey .

. 122

Munie, Mr. Crake, Evie

Robin-

/ Photograph by Mrs.

SON, AND FELISE

• 12 5

Ruins of Amphitheatre at

Milo

{ Brassey .

M

The ‘Sunbeam’ when

LAUNCHED .

first 1

- Photograph .

A Church at Zante .

| Photograph by Mrs. i Brassey .

> 131

Olive-gathering in Cephalonia, j

' Photograph by Mrs.

Brassey

• 134

An Extra Bath .

•

Bingham .

. 141

Some of our Crew .

Photograph by Mrs.

Brassey . , .

Citadel of Corfu

•

1 Incorrectly printed in the inscription, ‘ Hotel de l’Europe.* xviii LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

PAGE

An Unpleasant Demand for ]

j- Bingham .

. 147

Ammunition . . . . J

The Smoking Room

Photograph .

• 154

Amphitheatre at Taormina . .

• 157

Harbour at Bastia

Last of the ‘Eurydice’ . .

Bingham .

• US

The ‘Assistance ’ running into us

. 178

Dining under Difficulties . .

Bingham .

. 180

A small Derelict

Mott

. 187

Off the Bayona Islands . .

Bingham .

Tobacco Manufactory at Seville

. 199

A Water Party ....

Bingham .

. 206

Colliding nearly . . . .

Spanish Market Boat

Bingham .

. 2 1 1

Oran Harbour . . . .

Photograph .

. 212

Moorish Girl

• 215

Our State Room . . . .

Photograph .

. 219

Amphitheatre at Cagliari.

. 229

Sardinian Clothes-dealer . .

Photograph .

Bay of Naples ....

Bingham .

• 233

‘The Image of him ! J . .

Landing-place at Capri

Bingham .

• 243

Woman of Capri . . .

. 244

Steps at Anacapri

Barclay , R.A. .

. 246

Cape Spada

. 248

Earring from Curium

Mott .

. 249

Port Papho .....

. 250

Mounting the ‘ Minotaur ’

Bingham .

. 252

Earring from Curium .

Mott .

. 256

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

xix

Larnaka . . . . . .

Bingham .

PAGE

Gold Earring • .

Mott

. . 263

‘ Will they ever hear ? ’ . .

Bingham .

. 264

Asking for a Pilot .

• 265

Arrival in Camp . . . .

Bingham .

Ruins of Famagousta

, 284

Ancient Guns . . . .

Bingham .

. 287

‘ Get up, you lazy man ! ’ .

A Heavy Load . . . .

Bingham .

. 294

Kind Attentions.

. . 299

Prison at Rhodes . . . .

Harry Johnson .

. 306

Rhodes

Muller .

- ■ 3°7

Street of the Knights . . .

. 310

‘ Ma’s Donkey Man ’ .

Bingham . .

■ • 312

Upside Down .....

Bingham .

. 316

Bonner’s Pigeon ....

Mott

. . 320

‘ Sunbeam ’ aground . . .

Bingham .

. 322

‘ Why, here’s the Owl ! ’ .

Mott .

• • 323

Lunch with a Turk

Bingham .

• 330

‘YOU ARE NOT A TENNIS BALL !’ .

• • 333

Mosque of Sultan Achmed . .

* 335

Refugees at Princess Nazli’s ■ Door .....

j. Bingham

• • 339

Pigeons at the Mosque. . .

Bingham .

• 344

Pick-a-back .....

* • 346

Princesses embarking.

Bingham .

• 349

Turkish Bracelet

Mott . .

• ■ 35 1

Bulgarian Earring . .

Mott .

■ 353

Bulgarian Earring

Mott .

• ■ 359

XX

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS .

Refugees on Train Earrings and Necklet in one Bulgarian Child’s Bracelet.

Children’s Nursery .

Braving the Elements .

Syra .

Hermit of Malea .

A Quiet Time

The Meet at Battle Abbey

PAGE

Mott

■ ■ 364

Mott .

• 366

Mott

• 368

• 373

Oo

• 38°

• • 389

Mott

• 395

• • 407

Part I. Constantinople And The Ionian Islands

Lying off Hyde

SUNSHINE AND STORM IN THE EAST

(1874-1878).

Chapter I. Our Start — R.yde, Tangier, And Gibraltar

One woe doth tread upon another s heels,

So fast they follow.

On Friday , September 3 rd, 1869, we had started from Cowes in the ‘Meteor’ for the opening of the Suez Canal. In more ways than one that cruise turned out badly, as the equinoctial gales detained us three weeks at Brest, and the yacht had been driven back to Southampton, obliging us to make the first part of our voyage by the ordinary means of conveyance. I caught a bad fever while

PRINCE AND PRINCESS OF ROUMANIA.

travelling in Syria, of which I nearly died in Malta, and still feel the ill effects sometimes. However, we were not influenced by the sailor’s superstition, and arranged to start again on Friday , September 4, 1874, from Hastings in the ‘Sunbeam.’ On that morning it poured with rain, and blew with such force that the Fishermen’s Regatta had to be postponed, with the exception of the Fishing Boats’ Race. These boats are able to sail in any weather, but only ten started out of thirty-seven entered, and even these were under double-reefed sails.

Saturday , September $tk, was a lovely morning, without a breath of air, but by half-past ten the wind began to rise ; by twelve it was high, and before two it was blowing a gale. When the yacht arrived and dropped her anchor, it was with great difficulty that the luggage could be got on board, soaking wet, by a sort of extemporised crane.

Monday , September 7th, was finer, but with a strong southerly wind still. We lunched with the Prince and Princess of Roumania in St. Leonards, saw some interesting rocket practice (for saving life at sea), and then drove to Court Lodge, in order to afford our guests an opportunity of seeing something of Sussex farming, hop-picking, and fat beasts, with which they were much interested. This was followed by a rough and homely tea, which we all enjoyed, and it was long after dark before we separated, with mutual regrets, and promises to meet again in Roumania, which country they gave us a hearty invitation to visit.

Tuesday , September 8th. — I had a telegram from Tom to meet him at Ryde ; so we left Bexhill at half-past one, and arrived in due course at Portsmouth. A rough crossing to

ROUGH WEATHER.

Ryde pier, and a good tossing in the gig, took us on board the ‘ Sunbeam/ which we found all ready for sea ; but there was apparently no hope of starting for some time.

Wednesday gth and Thursday 10 th were terribly rough. Most of the yachts slipped away to Portsmouth, Southampton, or to lay up, and I do not think a single yacht’s boat tried to land except our own, which, being a powerful lifeboat cutter, was very safe and tolerably dry, though heavy to work under oars.

Friday, September nth, was calmer, but very wet. Tom and I went over to Sandown with the children, to spend the day with some old friends. Sandown itself is wonderfully altered and improved since we were there last. Many pretty rows of villas with verandahs have sprung up, in gardens of their own, looking more like a German watering-place than one of our stiff ‘parades by the sea/ After lunch, Tom and a friend decided to walk home. The children, being very wet after their dabble on the sands, were sent back by the first train, and I arranged to drive out to Bonchurch and return by the 6.30 train. 'We had a lovely drive in spite of the rain ; but the pony was fat and slow, and we arrived at the station just in time to see the train going off. We drove on to Sandown, and my host kindly accompanied me to the pier-head at Ryde, where I found the cutter and six men had been waiting for me since seven. Our old captain, Bishop, who has retired, and is now a yacht-agent ashore instead of a yachtcaptain afloat, tried hard to persuade me not to go off, as it was blowing so hard, pouring with rain, and pitch-dark. However, I knew the boat and the men, and how anxious those on board would be if I did not arrive. I therefore

BOARDING IN A GALE .

determined to start, with three reefs in the lugsail, two men holding on to the halyards, one to the sheet, all ready to let go. As soon as we got from under the lee of the pier we were nearly blown back. Then we narrowly escaped being run down by a steamer, which the wind would not allow us to weather. Being compelled to bear up, we had hard work beating to windward ; but we persevered, although at every minute we shipped seas, which kept three men constantly baling. At last, just as I was beginning to despair, John, the coxswain, cried out, ‘Down sail and pull for your lives, men, or we shan’t get on board to-night/ We saw the yacht, a perfect blaze of light, the deckhouse illuminated, and lights all along the bulwarks, which were lined with the anxious faces of all on board, passengers, servants, children, and crew, some holding lanterns, and some ropes. We bumped against the yacht, ropes were thrown over, and we were with great difficulty passed round under the stern, tossing about, sometimes far above and sometimes far below the yacht, till we were under the lee side. Then I was most thankful to be half thrown, half dragged on board. The men followed as best they could, clinging and swarming up the ropes like monkeys. Wet and terrified as I was, it was nothing to what they had suffered on board. For the last two trips the boat had been half full of water, and as the gale had been increasing for the last hour, they had almost given us up for lost. When one of the crew first saw our boat through the black darkness, Tom was just starting in the other cutter with ten men to look for us, and if possible to stop my trying to get on board that night. Had we missed the yacht the first time, it would have been impossible to

LUCKY SUNDAY.

pull up to her again. We should then have been obliged to run for Portsmouth Harbour, and probably to stay out all night, or till the tide turned or the wind moderated. It was really blowing a regular equinoctial gale. We had two anchors down, with sixty fathoms of chain on one and forty on the other anchor, and even then we dragged.

Saturday , September 12 th. — After all the trouble and anxiety with the boats yesterday, Tom thought it better to go into Portsmouth Harbour, where we could land in peace in any weather. We steamed across, and took up our old quarters at the buoy belonging to the ‘ St. Vincent’s ’ brig. In the afternoon we went to a pleasant dance on board the ‘ Excellent,’ where we met many old Mediterranean and Canadian friends, some of whom adjourned to tea on board the £ Sunbeam.’ The weather had quite taken up, the wind changed to N.E., and we wanted to be off at once. But some of our men were on shore ; provisions and water also were wanted ; so we determined to start at six the next morning.

Sunday , September 1 3///.— Sailors love to start on Sunday as much as they hate to start on Friday. Everyone, therefore, was in good spirits as on this most lovely morning we steamed slowly out of the harbour, past Ryde and Cowes, through the Solent to the Needles, which we passed at 10 a.m., and got into the swell outside just as we were having service at 1 1 a.m. By noon we were off St. Alban’s Head. At 7.30 p.m. off the Start. Flat calm. Our party this time consists of Tom, myself, and the three children, Tab, Mabelle, and Baby, of which the two eldest are to return from Gibraltar with Fisher ; Mr. Swift, with my cousin Miss Eva Robinson, and Mr. Bingham, completing our number.

OFF THE ROCK OF LISBON.

Monday , September 14 th. — Still calm. At 10 a.m. we were off Ushant, at noon off the Chaussee de Sein, having come from Portsmouth — 278 miles —in twenty-eight hours. At 1 p.m. we ceased steaming, and with a light north-easterly breeze, and all fore and aft sail set, steered for Cape Ortegal.

Tuesday , September i$th. In the Bay of Biscay, with pleasant weather, moderate sea, and wind from S.E. At noon we had sailed 1 1 3 miles since the same hour yesterday, and were 176 miles from Cape Ortegal.

Wednesday , September \6tJ1. — We made the land near Cape Ortegal about 2 p.m., and at 10 p.m. were about 1 5 miles from Cape Finisterre, with the revolving light in view. In the morning it was so calm that when Muriel, in a fit of mischief, threw her shoe overboard, the dingy was lowered to pick it up. The weather was bright and sunny, with paltry winds. We tried sailing, but, after flopping about in a very heavy swell from noon till 1 1 p.m., we raised the funnel and proceeded under steam, to the great comfort of everybody on ooard. Distance, from nooii yesterday till noon to-day, 197 miles.

Thursday, September lyth. — A strong wind, freshening to a moderate gale, all day. We ceased steaming at 1 1 a.m. At noon we were 50 miles off Cape Mordego, having run 190 miles since noon yesterday. At ij p.m. we were off the rock of Lisbon. The swell all Jay from the north-west was very heavy. At night it blew so hard that the jaws of the main boom were carried away, and it was a terrible business securing it again. It swept the whole of the after-deck with the greatest violence, describing more than a semicircle, and nobody could get near it till the

DENIZENS OF THE DEEP.

vessel’s head was brought to the wind. Then they lowered the sail, and ultimately made all safe, fortunately without injury to life or limb, though the standard compass was upset, companion smashed in, and Tom’s azimuth carried overboard. Several whales have been seen at different times, one blowing up so close to the yacht as to produce the appearance of an escape of steam from the engine-room. Shoals of porpoises played around us every day. The water

Cape St. Vincent has been full of jelly-fish of all kinds, each beautiful in colour and shape, but none more so than the lovely little Portuguese men-of-war, with their graceful delicate sails set to the breeze, sailing before the wind. At night the sea was splendidly illuminated with minute star-like zoophytes, making the water look like the reflection of the brilliantly star-studded sky above. Everything showed how much we had changed our latitude since starting from England.

Friday , September iStk. — The morning rose with a fresh

OFF TANGIER .

fair breeze, but very heavy swell from north-west, causing the ‘ Sunbeam’ to roll deeply for some hours before rounding Cape St. Vincent at noon. We signalled our number, and after passing the cape, though the wind freshened, the sea was smooth, and we had a most delightful sail along the south coast of Portugal. In the evening we saw the light off Cape St. Mary ; and we had a quiet night, which was a great treat.

Saturday , September \gth. — The morning was very hot, with a flat calm and a heavy swell. Fires were lighted and the funnel raised, ready to steam into Tangier, when a violent squall of wind came on suddenly, and continued for some hours, lashing the waves into foam, and raising so much sea in a short time, that we had more water on board than we wanted, and we all felt far more uncomfortable than during the whole passage thus far from England. We were under the shelter of Cape Spartel about 1 1 a.m., and as we coasted along had lovely views, especially as we rounded the last point and made Tangier, resembling, like most Oriental towns seen from a distance, a pearl rising from the ocean. Soon after noon we put off in the boat to land at Tangier, sending the yacht out to sea for a few hours. We took our passports, but were not allowed to land for want of the bill of health, which Tom had unfortunately left behind, thinking it would not be needed. We sent a message to the consul ; but he said it was of no use. So we sent a second message, and after some delay were told we might land in half an hour. In the meantime Tom transferred us into an empty boat lying at anchor, and went off in the gig under sail, to try and intercept the yacht and procure the important document. This he

ARAB HORSEMEN succeeded in doing just as all the consuls and vice-consuls of every nation (whose name is Legion here) had consented to allow us to land.

During the three hours we were bobbing about in the broiling sun, we had been amused by watching Arabs

Tangier riding races on the shore, and some washing their horses, swimming them right out to sea. When wet themselves, their shiny black and brown muscular bodies looked like bronze as they sat, firm as rocks, on their horses, which plunged and snorted with fear when out of their depth. No matter what they did, their riders stuck to them like wax.

IO

SCENE IN THE MARKET.

Qn landing we went straight to the Royal Victoria Hotel, kept by a black steward of the Duke of Edinburgh, who had married a Scotch cook. It is very comfortable : good cuisine and wine, nice clean rooms with a lovely view looking north, and consequently much cooler than Gibraltar. We were greatly pleased with the picturesque look of the town and the people, and we settled to spend Sunday here. After lunch we went for a stroll through the market, which was crowded with Arabs in their white haiks, negroes in their striped abbats, Bedouins in their burnous, and Moors and Jews in their bright-coloured dresses of all hues. The women were even more gorgeously draped than the men. As it was their Sabbath, they were all in their best. The faces of the Jewesses were uncovered ; the Moorish women were muffled up to the eyes, and waddled along like animated bundles of dirty clothes. Outside the gate were strings of camels from the interior, mules and horses from neighbouring villages, with more wild and picturesque people encamped in little striped tents or small bamboocovered huts, at work on their various trades, or cooking their frugal meal at the door/ Large families of children, babies and all, in spite of the intense heat, were packed as close inside their tents here, at the very edge of the Great Desert, as we had found the Lapps, almost on the verge of the eternal snows, when we saw them not two months ago. This similarity of habit between two very different peoples, one living under a broiling sun the year through, the other existing with hardly any sun at all, is certainly curious and interesting. There were snake-charmers fascinating the slimy reptiles before the gaze of an admiring circle ; storytellers telling and acting their romances to a crowd lolling

CAFE A LA TURQUE.

ir about on rocks and stones at the side of the hill, extemporising a sort of theatre to listen to the Arab improvviscitore . At the table d'hote we found a great influx of visitors, arrived by steamer from Gibraltar to spend Sunday.

On our way to the boa* .ter dinner, we stopped at a very small Moorish cafe lighted by two little wicks floating in oil held in two tumblers, suspended by long chains from

Bargaining in the Bazaar the low ceiling till they were almost level with the floor. Here we all crouched down on our heels and partook of cafe a la turqne — a large tea-spoonful of coffee, another of sugar, put into a small cup and boiling water poured on it, making it thick and sweet, but very high-flavoured and good. It was a curious, weird scene. Half a dozen men were playing cards in one corner, a man thrumming a sort of mandolin in another, and our guide trying to make music out of a

SPANISH MAN-OF-WAR.

large key, a pair of snuffers, and a knife, all produced from his pocket, which, rapped in a monotonous manner, formed an accompaniment to a still more monotonous song. The row off in the moonlight was lovely, and the sea-breeze most refreshing after the stuffy town.

Sunday , September 20th. — We went ashore quite early, this being market-day, to see much the same sights as yesterday, only more of them, and more crowd. Tom read service at 11.30 a.m. We had a visit from the captain of the Spanish man-of-war, ‘ Nave de Tolosa,’ which has now been lying in the bay more than two months since the time when, in common with many ships of other nations, she was sent to assist in quelling the disturbances among the Khabyles. She has remained ever since, the officers and crew stopping their full pay from the Moorish war indemnity, as it passes through their hands towards Spain, while most of the other ships of their country get nothing in the present disturbed state of affairs ; so they are wise to stay where they are, dull as they say they find the place. We asked the captain how the war was going on, but he did not know anything about it, and seemed to care less.

After lunch we went on shore to the Caasba at the top of the city, from which we had a charming view over the whole place, which, like most African cities, is built of mud, either just plastered up with straw or made into bricks, for the most part whitewashed, but sometimes painted red and yellow, or occasionally left to their original colour. The mosques are the same, but the minarets are of green, red, and yellow tiles, with generally a palm-tree growing near, giving a most beautiful effect. After dinner a Moorish wedding procession passed at the end of the street. We

A MOORISH WEDDING .

pursued it through the narrow pathways all over the town, guided by the firing of guns and the anything but sweet sounds of the musical instruments that accompanied it. Ultimately we reached the bride’s house, and saw her in a square box (covered with muslin and decorated with coloured tassels) let down from the roof and put on the back of a mule. The ‘cumbersome structure took four men all their

Moorish Musician.

time to hold it, and even then it went shaking and wobbling about in a way eminently calculated to make the unfortunate bride miserably ill before she reached the end of her journey ; for though her husband’s house was not very far off, they took her all round the town, and up and down all the streets. We followed the procession some little way ; but the music was very monotonous, the constant firing of guns in one’s ears unpleasant, and the accompanying crowd

THE CHILDREN’S DEPARTURE.

odoriferous, though most picturesque in the bright moonlight. So we wended our way to the gates, which, after some little delay and fuss, were opened for us. A crowd accompanied us to the beach, and we had another delightful moonlight row.

Monday , September 21st. — We started for Gibraltar at 1 1 a.m., and arrived about 2.30 p.m., after a pleasant sail through the splendid Straits under our square sail and studding-sail only. Captain McCrae sent out a boat to take us to a sheltered berth inside the New Mole, and we had scarcely dropped our anchor before some naval friends came on board. Then another old friend arrived, who brought the unpleasant news that the English homeward-bound mail was due this evening, instead of not till Wednesday, as we expected. So we had a great bustle to get the children’s things ready. It was indeed a terrible disappointment to us all, this sudden parting, and if the children had only asked, I do not think I could have had the heart to refuse them another week. But I am now very glad that they did not, as it was much better they should go home. We landed about 5 p.m., went up to the Signal Station on donkeys, an expedition which was much enjoyed, and dined at the Club-House Hotel. We had o.nly just time to take the children to the yacht again, pack up some things, and go on board the ‘ Khedive.’ There were only forty first-class and forty second-class passengers on board. The children, and Fisher, their maid, had two fine large berths to themselves. We none of us liked saying good-bye, but at last we thought it was all over, the parting bell had rung, and we were slowly and sadly descending the companion ladder. Suddenly two little heads and four